


when your lips were a prayer and your eyes were a sin

by teenxidle



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: F/F, and a bit of meta at the end, fucked up mutually destructive relationships, smut for people who are bad at writing smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 23:33:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1165920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenxidle/pseuds/teenxidle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It would always end in disaster, they knew. They would raise an empire together or kill each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when your lips were a prayer and your eyes were a sin

Summer played out on her skin in sweat and the smell of sunblock. Mona watched Spencer move restlessly through the windows, her body a fractured image through the glass. If Mona narrowed her eyes the pieces would shatter and multiply, a fractal of an image, a body broken down into its tiniest pieces in her gaze. Mona smiled. It was good to have that sort of power. 

_the serpent in the garden_

Mona liked lying in the grass. Spencer paced.

Mona never told Spencer about the moments where she would lie still, and the winds would rustle through the grass, when Mona closed her eyes and felt the sun on her skin and saw everything. Mona figured Spencer would understand. She would lie down and keep still and let the world wash over her as she saw things that were and things that are and things that would be, an infinite matrix of possibilities, fine tuning which strings in the web she would pluck and their inevitable consequences, her mind an endless archive. Spencer was flowcharts and color codes. Mona was afternoons in the garden with her hair fanned out on the grass, and raising to brush off the dirt with her mind set on destruction.

_high school war fare_

When she was bored Spencer taught her field hockey. The afternoons stretched out before them as Spencer corrected her position, explained the rules, and Mona gave the ball a few experimental whacks. Soon they were rushing through the garden, Mona smiling and Spencer with her mouth in a straight, grim line. Spencer whacked the ball straight at Mona's face. Mona slammed into Spencer's shoulder, sending her off balance. Spencer jammed her elbow in Mona's stomach. Mona tripped Spencer up with her stick. Spencer tackled Mona into the dirt. 

Spencer smelled of soap and sweat as they pushed and shoved, rolling through the grass. Mona spit out a mouthful and laughed, as Spencer grabbed a fistful of her hair and dragged her down. Spencer pushed Mona down down down and crushed their mouths together, and Mona tasted blood and dirt and that angry desperation that was becoming too familiar. Spencer still had her hair bunched in her balled fist, and it forced Mona to tip her head back, letting Spencer bite at her throat. Spencer never held back and she was always drenched in a barely contained fury and Mona loved that about her. Spencer's mouth was hot and her bite was rough and Mona would transcend for just a second, floating in a state of non-being, before she crashed back to Earth and back into her body. She raked her nails across Spencer's back viciously in revenge, before Spencer wrapped one of her long legs around her and whined pitifully. They moved together while their hands grabbed at skirts and pulled hair and marked each other all over. Even fucking was a competition, with them.

_copper and pearls and ebony_

Spencer wore her clothing like armor, her first line of defense. Crisp starched shirts and tailored blazers for academic excellence. Hats and layers and cardigans to shield her romantic heart from being bruised. When Spencer was with Mona she dressed to mirror: black hoodies and smudged black rims around her eyes like camouflage, warpaint. She hoped that in reflecting her she would learn her mind, find out what made her tick, what hid behind that blood red smile. 

But summer was no time for hoodies, and Spencer stood too long in front of her closet, her fan blowing cool air across her naked skin. She dipped her hands into the crêpe de chine and georgette, gliding through them as if swimming, except more like drowning. She tried to keep afloat but Mona's dark eyes and knowing smile were pulling her under, her whispers in the dark poisoning her mind, promising her the world and so much more. When her breathing got erratic Spencer grabbed the first thing she saw, pulled it on and yanked her hair into the tightest and straightest ponytail she'd ever made.

When Mona took one look at her and smiled like the edge of a knife Spencer knew she made the wrong choice. Later when Mona stripped her silk sparrow-print blouse off her slowly and methodically and Spencer bunched her fists in the hem of Mona's skirt and caught her mouth hungrily Spencer realized that she would never know Mona's mind.  

_bring me fever_

Even when naked, Mona was in disguise. Mona needed no costumes, her switching masks were something perceptible in the change of her posture, the shift of something in her face that turned her into someone else. Deception was her tool of the trade and Mona lived and breathed it every second. It came like second nature to her, by now. 

Mona breathed in, breathed out, and felt her features shift. She locked herself inside and opened another box, and it was easy as that. It was a necessity, with Spencer Hastings. It kept her on her toes, kept her on her A game (ha!), kept her fascinated. Mona had a film reel playing inside her head, forties seductresses and femmes fatales, and it was a look that would fit Spencer but it was what she was drawing on now. Monroe's quirked eyebrow, Bacall's confidence, Lake's knowing smile. Her fingers twitched as she mentally arranged the scene, directing the smallest moments, calculating the possibilities before she acted. 

Spencer kept her on her toes as well, kept her sharp.

Mona fucked like she planned - calculating, methodical, at times cold or cruel. She experimented with how far she could push Spencer before pleasure turned into pain, before ache turned into hurt, so she could bring Spencer to the edge and draw back right in time, leaving Spencer incoherent and gasping, her head thrown back and her neck one long line that Mona liked to bite just hard enough to bring Spencer to an orgasm that nearly brought her to tears. 

Spencer fucked Mona like defiance, like a puzzle she was trying to solve. She was tenacious and rough, a far cry from the composed image she liked to present to the world, but Mona knew how hard Spencer had to work to keep herself together. Damp skin sticking together and Mona taking Spencer's slender fingers in her mouth and sucking just _so_ unraveled all that Spencer worked for and made her come undone. But there was something like determination in Spencer, like she was rising to an unspoken challenge, trying in her own way to push Mona's buttons. Mona felt her hips jerk under Spencer's hands, as Spencer moved and twisted inside of her, and when she gasped she could see the self-satisfied look in Spencer's eyes. When Spencer kissed the inside of Mona's thighs Mona twined her legs around Spencer's body and didn't let go until she could feel her masks slipping and came with a high wailing sound that left Spencer looking far too smug for days.

 _You're gonna love me_ , Mona thought as she drew lazy patterns on Spencer's sweat-slick stomach. 

_like fire and ice and the heart of the storm_

Spencer burned too hard and too fast and Mona was a wall of ice that never melted. She took care to carefully compose herself and hide who she was, while Spencer came at the truth like a steam roller and never could hide the true parts of herself, but tried to cover them up by attacking first. All they did was play hide and seek and press their hurt jagged edges up against each other trying to make the pieces fit, with Spencer's burning rage and Mona's icy fury slamming up against each other and playing each other like the most dangerous game.

It would always end in disaster, they knew. They would raise an empire together or kill each other. 


End file.
